Secret Keeper
by clairemoi
Summary: Rick and Kate meet on a plane on the anniversary of her mother's death.


_Love is when one person know all of your secrets- your deepest, darkest, most dreadful secrets of which no one else in the whole world knows. And yet, in the end, that one person does not think any less of you._

"All passengers for Flight 199, this is your final call. Please make your way over to gate number seven." A short pause followed, and then the voice repeated, "Final call for Flight 199. All passengers to gate number seven. Thank you."

Madison groaned, burrowing deeper into the bundle of sweaters- a makeshift pillow- under her head.

"Maddy." Kate shook her gently. "Come on. They just called for our flight."

It wasn't that her friend hadn't heard, she knew. But after nine-and-a-half hours of flight delays, Madison had apparently decided to stop listening to what was going on around her- which just, well, made Kate's life more difficult. Maddy was a great friend, she really was, but God, sometimes she could be unbearable- especially when she was deprived of her mandatory ten hours' beauty sleep.

"Maddy!" Kate pushed at the seats Madison was lying on, feeling her own frustration spiking dangerously. "Come _on_, get up! We'll miss the flight!"

"Alright, fine, I'm getting up," Maddy moaned, shaking off Kate's arm and lifting her head reluctantly. "Can you believe them? They make us wait nine hours and then have the nerve to sound impatient."

"Yeah, I know," Kate replied, more in an effort to get Maddy moving then as genuine agreement. She was just exhausted and she couldn't wait to get on that plane and just _sleep _for the next couple of hours, sleep enough to push the rest of _those _thoughts out of her head, enough to just maybe forget for a few minutes at least.

In all honesty, she wasn't surprised about the delay. Today was an unlucky day for her. Ever since-

Oh, no. Not now. She was _not _going down that route now. Not in front of everybody.

Later, she thought wearily, lugging her suitcase after Maddy, who had stalked off to find the gate. Later.

A too-cheery attendant met them at the desk, her bright red lipstick impeccable- the antithesis to Kate's pale face and mussed hair. "Good evening, and sorry for the delay. What is your destination today?"

"New York City," Kate growled. The plane was flying to New York. Directly. Where did she think she was going, Honolulu? And did she have to keep smiling like that?

"May I see your boarding pass?"

"Here." Kate all but shoved it at her.

"Thank you. Enjoy your flight."

She bit back a snarky retort- it wasn't the employee's fault that there was a problem with the plane, after all- and followed Madison through the walkway and onto the plane. They wound through the crowded aisles searching desperately for 13A and B, and collapsed onto their seats with tired smiles when they found them.

"Not bad," Madison offered after a pause, glancing down at the very limited foot space.

Kate stared at her. "Was that- That was a joke, right?"

"Yeah." Maddy sighed. "So maybe not the best joke ever. Seriously Becks, one day when you're rich, you've got to get us onto First Class."

"Yeah, right." Kate snorted derisively. "Do you know how much a Detective makes?"

"I meant when you marry a rich guy and divorce him for all he's got."

"Oh, right." Kate laughed, mood lifted slightly. "No, definitely, I'll do that. Whenever, just ask."

Before Madison had time to reply, a flight attendant with that same too-big smile- honestly, was that a job requirement or something?- leaned over them.

"Good evening, ladies."

"Hi," Madison replied automatically, eyes narrowing. "What is it?"

"We have a slight issue." The stewardess folded her arms, seeming intimidated by Maddy. Kate suppressed a smirk. "It seems that this seat was double-booked, and we'd like to ask you to move seats, please."

"Who, me?" Kate sighed, already getting her things together. Just her luck. Of course it would be her, wouldn't it? Today was _her _day, the day when everything terrible happened and nothing was good or right.

"Uh-uh." Laying a hand on her friend's arm, Madison glared at the flight attendant. "Why can't the other guy sit somewhere else?"

"He, uh- He's insisting, ma'am. He booked this seat online. Says he experiences less motion sickness over the wings of the aircraft." The woman was wringing her hands nervously, silently begging them not to argue.

Kate felt sorry for her, and turned to give Madison a reassuring smile. "It's okay, I'll move. Only for a couple of hours anyway."

As she stood up with her bag, the stewardess squeezed her shoulder gratefully. "Thank you ma'am. We'll find you another seat."

Ten minutes later, when the last of the passengers had boarded, the flight staff were looking a whole lot less reassuring. Kate caught several whispers that sounded suspiciously like 'But the flight's full!', and other worrying things. She simply stood there quietly, head resting against the wall, watching them argue in hushed voices and feeling more and more irritation and exhaustion set in with every passing minute. Finally, the first flight attendant, the one who had approached her earlier, came over.

"Ma'am," she began.

Kate cut her off. "I know the flight is full, but just do something and find me a seat, please?" she begged. "I'm ridiculously tired after your stupid airline made me wait for nine-"

"We understand, ma'am. First Class is empty. We were planning to seat you there, if that's okay?"

Damn that smug, smug woman and her bright red smug lipstick smile! Of course it was okay. Kate forced out a shaky laugh and a "Yeah, that's fine" before following her to the front of the plane.

Her jaw dropped when the stewardess slid back the screen door.

God, she could get used to this: the place was _empty_, literally, except for four seats arranged in pairs at opposite ends, one of which was occupied by an obviously wealthy man- she couldn't see his face, but she was sure he must be one of those rich, balding business men types. And there was _wine _on the table. An entire bottle.

"You can leave your bag in the compartment next to your seat," she was informed crisply, before the sliding door shut smoothly, leaving her in the heaven of all heavens that was First Class.

Which seat should she take? Not next to the man. That would be awkward. No, she decided, she'd take one of the other two remaining seats, on the other side of the quasi-lounge. Window seat, of course. Ever since she was young, Kate had always loved sitting in the window seat- not because she could see everything, but because she couldn't make out the details in the masses of land way below, and it made her feel an odd combination of small and vulnerable and powerful at the same time.

She glanced up at the seat number just out of habit, and stopped dead.

Shit. Seat nine. _Nine_.

Of course, it would be, wouldn't it, because-

No, Kate, she chided herself. Not now. She couldn't delve into the darkest parts of her mind yet, not when she wasn't alone. It was just a number. Just a measly, puny little number that even two-year-olds could count to. Nothing wrong with a simple number. It was just superstition- and since when had she been superstitious?

She slowly lowered herself onto seat nine, even though eight was empty, as a challenge- no, as an attempt to prove her strength to herself on her weakest, most vulnerable day. Taking a long, deep breath, Kate allowed her eyes to close and drifted off into what she hoped would be a peaceful slumber, trying desperately to ignore the aching pit in her belly.

XXX

"We are experiencing slight- ah! Sorry. Ladies and gentlemen, we are experiencing some turbu- ow! Turbulence. Please fasten your seatbelts. Thank you."

Kate was jolted awake by the announcement, her own body slamming into the side of the aircraft in time to the shouts of pain from the announcer. Her fingers gripped the edges of the seat in panic before she remembered where she was, and looked around to see what was happening.

The cabin was still empty, but food and papers were scattered all over the floor, rising and thumping back down ominously with every jerk of the plane. The man in the seat across from her was facing straight ahead now, and his forearms were straining from holding the seat in front of him. His laptop lay half-open next to him, open on a blank document.

He was scared, she realized. And- a tremor shot through her suddenly- so was she. Never one to experience any apprehension from flying before, she was startled at the fear, and gripped the seat tighter, clenching her jaw.

The plane dropped a few feet suddenly, and she groaned as her skull smashed into the side of the plane. The man in the next aisle glanced at her, and she saw him swallow.

"You should- you should probably wear your seatbelt."

"Yeah, I- yeah, probably" she answered weakly, managing a small smile as she fumbled for the catch, thrown for a second at the familiarity of the man's face. Her mind raked through old memories in an effort to place him… a family friend? Someone who worked at the precint, maybe in accounting? Friend of her college roommate?

No. But she did know him from somewhere, even if-

"Ow!" She cursed under her breath as her body was thrown into the side wall again, rubbing her elbow. The plane was suddenly being thrown around in the air like a child's toy- a shiver went through her at the image, and she held on tighter still.

Just think about other things, she ordered herself. Don't think about how we're thousands of feet up being tossed in the air. Think about your nice, warm bed at home, and the seven cups of coffee you can have when you get off this damn plane, and that leather jacket at the store round the corner, and-

_I might die today._

The ominous thought skittered into her brain out of the blue. But even as she was startled at the unexpectedness of it, she couldn't deny that it felt true- and the longer she thought about it, the more certain she became. She was going to die, she knew it with utmost conviction. It was almost poetic really, to die on this day of all days, in seat number nine.

Screw poetic.

_I don't want to die. _Kate tried in vain to force down the panic that was threatening to overtake her at the thought of imminent death, covering her mother's ring with her fist in an effort to calm herself.

"You okay there?" the man asked warily, staring at her.

"Fine," she choked out. But terror was slowly gripping her. She _knew_, she just _knew _that she was going to die. She was never superstitious, but even she couldn't deny everything, all the signs pointing to it, to her death.

Okay, breathe, Kate, she coached herself. Breathe!

She gasped in lungfuls of air, but it wasn't _enough_, how could it be enough when she was going to die, any second now? Kate was finding it hard to speak, hard to breathe- no, she was breathing too _much. _Her throat felt like it was closing in on itself, and black spots danced in front of her eyes, twisting and writhing mockingly as her heart beat a rhythm into her skull, louder and louder until all she could see were black blurs and all she could hear were the pounding thumps of her heart.

_I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm coming, Mom. Bye, Dad. I don't want to die, but I'm going to. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to-_

Suddenly, the seat next to her creaked and she scrambled away, away, as far as she could get, pressing herself into the window to-

"It's just me," a rough voice whispered. "Guy from the next aisle? I think you're having a panic attack."

A- A panic attack? She registered the words dimly, but couldn't recall their meaning.

"Just… Just breathe." The man was still staring at her, except now he had her hand and was stroking it. "Come on, there you go. Squeeze my hand."

She grasped the warm hand and dug her nails into it as she gasped in mouthfuls of oxygen. He didn't seem to mind.

"There you go," he encouraged. "That's it. Just breathe."

She managed a nod, trying to slow her racing heartbeat. The black spots were fading now, slowing their rhythmic dance on her eyelids.

"I- can't-"

"It's okay," he encouraged. "Just focus on breathing. In… and out." He exhaled with her. "In… and out."

She wanted him to go, but she didn't. He was a _stranger_, and he was touching her and holding her hand and comforting her and how could she allow that? Why _was_ she allowing that? But he was so _soothing, _this calm, kind stranger, that she couldn't help but clutch his hand even tighter in her own, and let him talk her out of whatever it was she'd worked herself into.

The black blurs were miniscule now. Kate took a long, deep, shuddering breath and slowly loosened her grip on his hand, starting to feel embarrassment creeping in.

"I- sorry," she stammered, flushing. "I-"

"Hey, no need to apologize," the man replied easily, squeezing her hand as the plane dipped again. "Nervous flyer, huh?"

She shook her head, ignoring his curious gaze. Nervous flyer? Yeah, right.

"Then not to be nosy, but what brought that on?" He was trying to subdue the discomfort he knew she was feeling, and she appreciated that, even if it was just making things more awkward. "I mean, unless you know something about this turbulence that I don't…" His face immediately dropped at her expression. "Ah, shit. Okay, I'm sorry. Touchy topic. Okay, cool. Let's talk about other stuff." She could practically see him wracking his brains, before he brightened suddenly. "I never introduced myself. Rick."

The name wasn't familiar. "Kate," she offered quietly, figuring that after he helped her through her panic attack, she at least owed him her name in return.

"Kate." He tried it out. "Nice name. You look like a Kate."

"Um, thanks?"

"So, Kate, turbulence seems to be over." With a start, she realized that he was right, and immediately felt childish. "I'm getting bored over there by myself. Do you want to talk?" She was sizing him up now, watching carefully as he talked. Blue eyes, dark hair. A few years older than her, probably. Maybe in his early thirties. Rich, obviously. _That _she got from his suit, and from the fact that he was in freaking first class. "Let's talk. What do you do for a living?"

How much should she tell him? "I… I work in law enforcement," she said finally, gauging his response.

His eyes brightened immediately. "Really? That's awesome. In New York, right?" At her nod, he continued, "So what position do you-"

"Ow!" The plane lurched suddenly, and Kate yelped as his elbow collided with her ribs, reaching down to rub the spot and turning accusing eyes to him.

"Sorry, sorry," he said. "Looks like the turbulence isn't ov- ah!"

The plane pitched again in the air, and her grip on his hand resumed at full strength, her knuckles white from the exertion.

Oh, shit. Kate could feel the mantra working its way back into her mind- _I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die_- and she struggled desperately to fight away the panic threatening to overtake her.

Rick noticed immediately, and grabbed both her hands. "Hey. Hey, Kate, look at me. Look at me, you're fine. We're fine. Just keep breathing how you are. Don't go back down that route, just remember that you're fine. There, see? The turbulence is- ah!- okay, it's still there, and it's scary but just… talk or something. Yeah, talk. Come on, talk to me. Talk to me. About anything you want."

Talk. Talk.

She forced her mouth open. "I'm not- It's not that I'm scared of flying," she defended quietly, trying to ignore the constant tilting and dipping and lurching of the plane- the turbulence was just as bad as before, if not worse. "I mean I'm a cop for God's sake. But I don't- it's just today. Just today," she repeated, wanting him to understand. For some reason, this stranger's opinion of her mattered.

He was nodding although she knew he must be lost. "Yeah, exactly. Today. Just today."

"No, I'm not making that up." She smiled weakly despite herself. "It really is just today and just, everything, I guess."

"What's today?" He couldn't resist a question.

Should she tell him? Oh, what the hell. They'd never meet again. "My mom's death anniversary. She died today." He was going for his phone to tell him the date, but she beat him to it"January 9th, 1999. I was 19. See a patterm?"

"Ones and nines," he murmured sympathetically.

Kate nodded, continuing, "And the flight was delayed by nine hours. And I'm in seat number nine, on flight number 199. And," she paused, clearing her throat so her voice wouldn't break, "It's been nine years."

"I can see why you were spooked," Rick admitted, squeezing her hand comfortingly. "Still are?"

"I'm going to die today," Kate said with certainty. "I hope I don't, but I feel like I'm going to." She waved a hand dismissively. "I shouldn't think that. I'm never superstitious, ever. But this time it's just got to me and once it's here I can't just take the thought away. It's probably because I haven't slept all night. And God, I was so tired but Maddy- my friend Madison, back in Coach, she's a mess when she's cranky- she was being so lazy and so I had to watch the bags and-"

It was like the floodgates had opened. She was trying to explain why everything had gotten to her today, and from there she moved on to her mom's murder.

And, well, talking helped. It helped with dealing with the turbulence, sure. But it also felt _good _because Kate never talked about her feelings with anyone, not even Madison. And so she talked.

And Rick listened.

"-Nine years ago to this day. I still remember the exact words Detective Raglan used when he came to tell us. My dad was so broken, he-"

-became a detective at the 12th. I'm scared all the time that I'll never be able to find her killer and bring her justice, but more than that I'm scared that I'll fall down that rabbit hole again and-"

"-Boyfriend. Will Sorenson. I'm just with him for the sake of it, you know? I know it's not going anywhere but I don't think he does, so I feel like a total idiot for keeping him hanging. But it's just familiarity I guess. And-"

-used to piss off Dad. But he got me into bikes so I guess I can't complain. Still got my '94 Harley Softail with-"

She talked, and she talked, and she talked, and she forgot he was even there.

"-strawberry shakes. The best, most delicious things you've ever tasted in your life. You have to go there sometime. It was-"

-he thinks I like it and I don't want to hurt his feeling so I pretend I do but-"

"Kate." He was shaking her shoulder. "Kate. Kate, we've landed."

"What?" She glanced around, dazed. Did he- had he just said they _landed_? Her eyes flicked to the window, and sure enough, the plane was safely on the ground, unmoving. "What- But- How?"

"The turbulence… stopped?" He was looking apprehensive. "When you were about halfway through. But- I mean, I didn't want to stop you so-"

He broke off as Kate turned to meet his eyes, her own flashing dangerously.

"You _let _me talk," she hissed, throwing her seatbelt off, "for _thirty minutes_ when there was no turbulence about my_ personal_ life when you knew that I still thought we were going to die?"

"You still could," Rick offered, hands up. "On the way home or something." His face fell at her look. "Uh, okay, wrong thing to say. But you were- I mean- I know I should've stopped you, but you were just-"

"Damn right you should have stopped me!" she growled at him, hands balled in fists. How _dare _he? She'd told him-

Damn. Well. She'd told him a whole lot.

It was okay though, right? Not like she was ever going to have to see him again.

"Okay," she breathed, inhaling deeply with her eyes tightly shut. "Okay. It's fine. Whatever. Okay." When her eyes popped open, he was still sitting there, staring at her with an odd mix of curiosity and concern. "Um. You can, you know, go. We have to get our bags and leave the plane."

He started. "Oh- yeah, yeah, sure. Right, you're right. I'll move. You okay now?"

"Pretty sure I am," she replied through gritted teeth, pursing her lips at his smirk. Then, she swallowed her pride and nodded once. "No, I am. Thank you."

"My pleasure," he replied smugly. "I do seem to have that effect." After a short pause, he added, "You wanna meet up for a drink sometime? Maybe later this week?"

Oh, jeez. When exactly had he turned into a flirt, and how had she not noticed? She'd been under the impression that he was just a concerned, serious man who wanted to help.

Now he wanted to hit on her?

"Thanks, but no," she told him, hoisting her bag strap onto her shoulder- cool and crisp, that was the way to go. Don't make him think you're playing hard to get. "Thanks for the help. But I'm still in a relationship right now."

"You'd enjoy it…" he persisted, lifting his eyebrows in a way that should have been obnoxious but was so endearing instead.

To hell with cool and crisp. "I think you'd enjoy it a bit too much," she shot back, stepping past him to leave the aisle- he _still _hadn't moved- and making sure to brush past him just a little.

He gaped at her. "Is that a yes, Detective?"

"No," she turned to him, "I don't think my boyfriend would appreciate it."

"Yeah," he scoffed. "The same boyfriend who you're just hanging around with for the- what was it?- oh yeah, the _familiarity_."

He did not just say that.

She was thrown for a second before she managed to compose herself, and shot him a glare that made it very clear that it was _not _okay for him to ever say anything like that again.

"Sorry, Rick," she said icily, "But I don't cheat."

"So you _want _to," he crowed, looking more like a six-year-old than in his mid-thirties.

Kate rolled her eyes. She never should have given him anything- it was her mistake, and she knew it. She was just leading this poor guy on. "No. I'm not interested; I was just being nice. As a thank you for your help."

"Too bad." He was put-out, but quickly perked up again, giving her a lopsided grin- no, more of a smirk, really. "It would've been fun."

"Oh, definitely," Kate replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You have no idea. Bye, Rick."

"Until next time, Detective."

She waited for Maddy outside the plane doors, not wanting to leave her friend behind. Maddy was sure to want every single detail of her journey, Kate knew, and she steeled herself for the barrage of questions- pretending to herself that she didn't want to talk about it, but secretly excited and shot through with adrenaline after the flight.

Maddy didn't disappoint. "I cannot believe you got to sit in first class!" she exclaimed the second she saw Kate, her jet-lag momentarily forgotten. "How was it? Did you get VIP treatment? Was there anyone else there? Were they mega-loaded?"

Kate grinned, laying a calming hand on her friend's shoulder. This was the perfect pick-me-up for Madison- the knowledge that her best friend had rubbed shoulders with New York's most elite for a couple of hours. "Just the one other guy. And no, no VIP treatment. Maybe, if the plane hadn't been imitating a rollercoaster."

Madison wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, what was up with that?" Waving a hand dismissively, she continued, "But anyway, tell me more! Was he rich?"

"I'm assuming, yeah," Kate laughed.

"Did you flirt with him? Becks, please tell me you at least got his number?"

Kate barely managed to suppress a snort. Yeah, right. When was she supposed to have chatted up the guy? Between the panic attack and the special hour of sharing their life stories? Well. _Her _life stories.

"No, I didn't flirt with him." _Much. _"We were kind of distracted with the plane jumping around like a rodeo horse."

"Okay, okay, point taken." Maddy grinned and linked her arm through Kate's, pulling them both towards the exit. "Who's ready for their nice comfy bed?"

XXX

"The cases are based off of books by author Richard Castle," Kate explained quickly to Montgomery, impatient. She wanted to go and bring the author in already, so they could catch the son-of-a-bitch that was killing these people and make sure that he never saw the light of day again. It had _nothing _to do with secretly wanting to meet her favourite author- _nothing_. "So our next move would be to bring him in to consult, or to see if he has any connections with-"

"To consult, hmm?" Montgomery was looking shifty. He had that look in his eyes, the look that meant that bad things were coming her way, and he was going to have a whole lot of fun watching.

"Yeah, so we need to-"

"That's actually quite a coincidence," the captain started cheerfully, eyes twinkling, "because I just got off the phone with Richard Castle."

"What?" She was infuriated. "Those case details were supposed to be private! How did he know about them? Who leaked them? If that reporter snuck in here again…"

"Nobody did anything," Montgomery replied calmly, smile widening. "Actually, he's writing a new book. Based on a female detective. And he felt that it would be highly beneficial to his research to shadow a female detective for a few-"

"Uh, no." No way. No way in _hell _was that happening. Even if she did love his books.

"Why not?" Montgomery asked.

Kate stared at him. He wasn't seriously considering this. "Because it's _dangerous. _He's a writer, not a cop- he'll just get himself killed!"

"He's a grown man, Beckett; I'm sure it won't be too hard to keep him out of danger for a few days."

"A grown _writer_. Not a cop."

"Still."

She rolled her eyes. "Sir, he won't have a gun." A pause, then"He won't, right?"

"No." Montgomery moved to the front of his desk and leaned against it, relaxed. "But he is going to shadow you."

"Why can't someone else do it?"

"He wants you. He's insisting."

What? Why would he do that? He didn't even know her. "Sir, I'm flattered that he knows about me, but I really don't need a civilian tagging along with me on-"

"Well that's too bad, because I already agreed." When she levelled a glare his way, Montgomery hastily elaborated"He's got the mayor on speed dial, Beckett. And we could use the good publicity."

"But-"

"Beckett, he's going to shadow you on a few cases, you're going to keep him safe, and the mayor's going to stay happy. Clear?"

Kate sighed. "Yes, sir.

Montgomery chuckled. "It's only for a few weeks. Oh, and he's outside. I told him you'd brief him."

She walked out of the room to find Richard Castle, ignoring Montgomery's "Be nice, Beckett!". As if she didn't have enough to deal with already, now she had a civilian to protect? Although she had to admit, she was slightly pleased that Richard Castle- _Richard Castle_- had heard of her. But… he was a civilian. And she was a cop. Even if he _was _an extraordinary author, he was still going to be a burden, an extra body to protect with just one gun.

There he was. Sitting on a bench a few feet away. He rose when he heard her footsteps, and turned to greet her.

She opened her mouth, about to give him the mandatory safety talk-

"Hello again, Kate."

She paled immediately.

No. No, shit, no, this was not happening. This could not be happening-

"Fancy seeing you again." That asshole. That _bastard. _He'd done this on purpose! He was flashing her a knowing smirk- that _ass_.

"Rick?" she gasped out, grabbing his arm and dragging him into the nearest observation room. "You're _Castle_? Richard_ Castle_? What the hell are you doing? You can't shadow me!" She shoved him roughly against the wall.

"Is this how you say hello?" He still had that same grin on his face and she wanted to slap it off. "Congratulations on surviving, by the way." That pompous, arrogant _jerk_.

"Shut up," she growled. "You do not get to say that to me."

"Oh come on, Detective, I thought we were friends."

"What the hell, Castle, we are not-"

"I'm Castle now?" He pulled a face. "I think I liked Rick better."

"You _can't _work with me," she hissed menacingly. "You know too much."

"No, don't- I wouldn't tell anyone, Kate, don't-"

"It's _Beckett_." She let go off him abruptly and walked back a few steps, rubbing her temple and trying to think.

Okay. Okay. This wasn't the end of the world. It was just a few weeks, that's all. Just a few, measly little weeks and then she could shove him out of her life and pretend he never happened.

"Okay. Fine. Fine." She turned on her heel to glare at him. "You can follow me around, but not _one _word about how we met, clear?"

"Of course."

"And then that's it." She met his eye sternly to make her point. "You do three cases max and then we're done."

He closed the small gap between them and laid a hand on her arm, still flashing that stupid, knowing playboy smile. "I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship, Detective Beckett."


End file.
